


Crackhead Chronicles: A Guide to Not Getting Murdered by a Dystopian Sewer Cult

by ahrist



Category: Original Work
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-12-07 19:38:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20981279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahrist/pseuds/ahrist
Summary: “Welcome, Gods of Old, to Ashbridge, the last remaining civilization on the New World.”If there was one thing the Crackhead Central group chat didn’t expect while arguing one night about the importance of yeast, it was being summoned to a strange and bizarre dystopian city by a group of rebels calling themselves the Sewer Rats.Being mistaken for the country’s 17 Pillar Gods, who are said to have returned to the Old World after the War of Four Nations, they are forced to act the part of higher powers lest these dangerous vigilantes discover the truth and oust them as outsiders, sacrificing them to an active volcano in the name of freedom.“Simple: we all just pretend to be their gods until we find a way to get back home.”Shouldn’t be all that hard, should it?“Dei Eli, please let us change your clothes for you—”“My fist doesn’t need a compass to land on your fucking face. Donottouch me.”… And did I mention there’s also the threat of overpowered androids prowling the streets and a comet twice the size of Earth hurtling towards their planet?





	1. The “Gods” Have Arrived

**ACT 1** **: CHAPTER 1**

The “Gods” Have Arrived

* * *

**i. AHRI**

A blinding flash of light from her phone screen, distant screaming, a moment of free falling, then a dull ache as she landed on the hard ground with an ungraceful thud.

Not the most comfortable way to get transported to another world, is it? I mean c’mon, other people get to use portals. Why can’t _ this _ world have something better than breaking backs …

At the time, Ahri hadn’t even known what was going on. She did feel something cold and rough pressing against her back but was barely conscious enough to understand what was happening around her.

Serves her right for spending all her time lying down, she guessed. It seemed even the slightest jostle upright had her lightheaded.

“Jesus _ fucking _ Christ—”

“ … Where the hell are we?”

“Could you _ please _ get your butt out of my face?”

“Get. Off.”

… What?

Why did it sound like a bunch of people were crowded inside her room? Did someone push her out of bed? Was that why her head was pounding so much?

How rude. They hadn’t even bothered to help her up.

“Wait, is that … ?”

“Is she asleep—”

“Oh my god … ”

“She’s bleeding!”

“She must’ve hit her head.”

What a strange dream …

Ahri vaguely recognized four, maybe five of the voices and although that was mildly comforting, she hated all the noise and tried to pry her eyes open, but her entire body felt numb and heavy. She couldn’t even feel most of her limbs, much less her face.

Things were getting all too confusing.

Was she asleep? Was she awake?

Or worse … did she somehow end up dying _ in _ her sleep? Although that would mean that the angels have terrible hospitality. Unless, of course, she was in hell.

… Thinking about it, the latter made a whole lot more sense.

“ … Christ, BACK UP! GIVE HER SOME FUCKING AIR!”

“But we need to clot the blood before she loses any more.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just suddenly move her head like that!”

The last thing she heard before she slipped into complete unawareness was a faint voice going, “Welcome, Gods of Old, to Ashbridge, the last remaining civilization on the New World.”

… This was getting to be the weirdest dream Ahri’s ever had.

**ii. CASPAR**

He noticed them before the others did.

Caspar was sure a nasty bruise was going to form on his chin later, but the pain failed to even register against the ringing in his ears as he got up. In front of him stood a large group of people, and they were all staring them down with such a fierce intensity that it scared him.

He recognized the looks on their faces, knew those cold glares all too well.

They were being judged.

And they were failing.

He’d intended to call the attention of the people behind him, but he soon realized that they were preoccupied with something else. At the center of the group was a girl who appeared to be around his age. She was of shorter stature than even Caspar who stood at a little over five feet, with dark brown hair covering most of her face. She was unconscious, but that wasn’t even the worst of it.

Blood was oozing out of her head.

_ Shit. _

He knew he had no choice but to ignore the strangers behind them for now. It didn’t seem like anyone else knew what to do, so he tentatively decided to step forward and take the lead.

“Hey, guys, back up! We should give her some room.”

No one was listening.

Steeling himself, he yelled, “Jesus Christ, BACK UP! GIVE HER SOME FUCKING AIR!” while pushing past the few who stood blocking his way. As Caspar moved closer, it did nothing to calm his building panic.

She was paling. And fast.

“But we need to clot the blood before she loses any more,” said a girl from behind him just as another kneeled down and moved to press what he guessed was someone else’s shirt behind the girl’s head.

He reached out and grabbed her wrist to stop her.

“That doesn’t mean you can just suddenly move her head like that!”

At that moment, another’s voice rang out from behind them, one he didn’t recognize and sounded much, much older than him, authoritative, commanding.

Biting his lip, he hesitantly turned to look over his shoulder.

His blood ran cold.

**iii. RYAN**

Guns.

The strange people in front of them were all holding guns.

As if it wasn’t bad enough that Ahri was on the verge of dying of blood loss, the first thing Ryan realized when he looked up was that they were all being held at gunpoint.

That and their group was pathetically outnumbered.

He hadn’t even gotten any sleep the previous night what with needing to finish a paper for one of his classes. This was too much for him to try and comprehend at seven in the morning. Wait. Was it even seven in the morning?

And what were they referred to as? Gods?

What the hell were these people on?

“You were all transported here after our arcana wielders called you to aid our world.” The one addressing them was a frail old woman who stood a few steps closer to them than the rest. She herself wasn’t holding a weapon, but the alert and protective stance of those who stood behind her made it clear that she wasn’t someone to be taken lightly.

“Pardon me,” a boy to his right was the first one to speak up. He had light brown hair and was just as tall as he was, which came as a slight surprise, “but where exactly is ‘here’?”

“As I’ve said, welcome to Ashbridge, the last remaining civilization—”

He cut her off before she could continue. “No, what I mean is, what country? What state? Don’t just ominously describe the damn city or whatever this place is. A tribe or some shit?”

… Oh god …

The tension that hung in the air right after he uttered those words was almost palpable, not to mention how the group in front of them collectively gripped their guns tighter, glaring daggers at him.

Even he could tell that he’d just seriously disrespected who Ryan guessed was their leader.

He wanted to throw up.

There was another moment of total silence.

Before laughter.

Loud and breathy laughter.

Confused, he managed to awkwardly sneak a glance at the others behind him to make sure he wasn’t the only one who was caught off-guard, and he wasn’t.

The rest of the group looked just as dumbfounded as Ryan did.

“You can see the Sacred Flame burning in this one for being summoned so abruptly, no less of he who rules over warcraft.”

…

He blinked.

Rules over _ what _ now?

The old woman then began hobbling toward them and while a few of those behind her moved to follow, they all reluctantly returned to their places with the slightest wave of her trembling hand.

“We’ve all been waiting far too long.”

**iv. CONNER**

They didn’t have time for this.

Ahri had already lost too much blood. If they delayed treatment any longer, there was no doubt she’d …

Clenching his fists, Conner sprinted up to the front of the group.

“One of our members got hurt,” he blurted out, stunning the woman into silence. Once she came to a stop before them, he gestured for the rest of the group to move away, clearing a path toward where Ahri laid unconscious and injured. A girl he didn’t recognize was kneeling down next to her.

The stranger wordlessly ambled toward them then crouched down but just as she extended a hand, Zoe’s own darted out protectively.

She’d been standing a few ways away, and he could see just how afraid she was.

Swallowing hard, the unfamiliar girl said, “Can you help her? We don’t know what happened, but we fell and b-blood just started … she hit her head and … and there’s just s-so much blood—” When her labored breathing made it difficult for her to continue, Zoe reached out and started stroking her back to comfort her.

Could that be Shyn?

The woman didn’t respond and instead, pushed Ahri’s hair out of her face with one bony hand, the other she placed right at the base of her neck, gently moving her head to the side to examine the injury.

Sensing the danger that came with the precarious placement of her hands, Conner moved to come closer but he hadn’t even taken two steps forward when a warm light spread out from beneath the stranger’s fingertips and encased his friend in threads of gold and silver.

“What … are you—?”

It was then that he noticed what all the rivulets were circling; they were darting in and out of the gash in her head, their fluid movements reminding him of a needle and thread sewing fabric together.

He was so entranced by its motions that he didn’t notice when the light began to dim but when it did, Conner just barely managed to breathe out the question that the rest of the group probably had on their own minds as well. “What did you do?”

“Closed the wound … but it did nothing for all the blood she lost.”

Zoe paled in disbelief while the girl he’d assumed was Shyn bridged a finger below Ahri’s nostrils.

…

…

“ … She’s breathing.”

_ … Thank God._

He released a deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding while the rest of the group let out murmurs of relief.

_ She’s fine. She’ll be alright._

However, their ease was short-lived when she turned to glare at him, her face contorted in disgust and her gaze holding steadfast with pure, raw hatred.

“You’re all mortal, aren’t you?”

_ … Fuck. _


	2. “If You Can’t Dazzle Them with Brilliance, Baffle Them with Bullshit.”

**ACT 1** **: CHAPTER 2**

“If You Can’t Dazzle Them with Brilliance, Baffle Them with Bullshit.”

* * *

**v. ELI**

To say that Eli was terrified would be a serious understatement. While she was glad that Ahri had survived the worst of her injuries, the waves of nervousness that racked her body under the hostility of this strange old woman’s death glare were enough to have her chewing her inner lip and peeling the skin off her calloused fingertips until they were red raw.

First, she’d assumed they were all gods. Now, she was accusing them of being mortal?

What the actual fuck was wrong with these people?

But she knew there wasn’t much she could do about it what with the other party outnumbering them ten to one. She would’ve retorted, but even Eli wasn’t dumb enough to provoke these armed, dangerous-looking strangers.

Can’t say the same for the others, though.

“How dare you speak to us gods like that, mortal,” said someone from behind her, and all fifteen of them whipped their heads around toward the speaker.

She would recognize that strong, distinct accent anywhere.

Which means …

Oh _ no_.

“After all the trouble we went through just to get to the mortal plane, too.”

_ Please, _ she pleaded in her head, tears springing up to the corners of her eyes in desperation. Please _ stop talking. _

“We did not postpone our divine responsibilities just to be disrespected, wench.”

_ You _ idiot_. _

The woman regarded Titus silently, eyes raking up and down his form.

Which, might she add, _ didn’t have a shirt on_.

Never before had she felt such an intense desire to ram her head against a wall in frustration. They must’ve looked like complete lunatics to these locals—

Hang on a tick.

Eli narrowed her eyes.

Their question from before hadn’t even been answered yet. However, although she desperately wanted to find out where the hell they were, seeing as how the only person who’d taken the liberty of communicating with them thus far seemed to be in the middle of a staring contest with her German friend, she decided her curiosity could wait until a later time.

Right now, they had more pressing matters to worry about.

“You, my dear, are nothing but an outsider.” The old woman did a once-over of him again then scoffed. “A slob of an outsider at that.”

_ … Excuse me? If Titus is a slob, then what the fuck am I? Am I not even human at this point? _

“If you claim to be gods,”—she stood a bit straighter, a defiant air to her stance—“then prove your divinity.”

**vi. EMBERS**

Titus had managed to single-handedly dig all seventeen of their graves.

Embers was equally impressed and disappointed.

Elbowing him harshly in the side, he hissed out a sharp, “Dude, what the _ fuck _ do you think you’re doing?”

“I mean, it’s a dream. I can do whatever I want,” Titus answered after a short pause.

…

_ Excuse me, what?! _

The urge to borrow one of their guns just to shoot himself in the head with it was growing stronger.

“This isn’t a dream.” He’d figured out as much on his own when falling flat on his face earlier hurt like a _ bitch_. “I don’t know what’s going on, but this is all real.”

Titus let out a short, forced laugh that told him he didn’t believe a word of what he was saying.

“Well?” The stranger prompted just as Embers moved to see if punching him square in the face would make him realize that he wasn’t dreaming. “If you plan to merely stall for time, we might as well round you all up while you’re at it.”

“Wait, what?” A few dozen of her subordinates started toward them. “Round us up? For what?”

“Libertatem.”

“Oh, I see. Libertatem. Yeah, that explains a _ whole _ lot,” he bit out sarcastically, his building panic overlapping his better judgment after being surrounded.

Shooting him a pointed glare, the old woman sighed before continuing, “Libertatem, a sacred ritual during which sacrifices are cast into the crater of Mount Nuptse in the name of freedom. Perhaps our _ real _ gods will answer our prayers once they receive seventeen human offerings.”

…

Now it was his turn to sigh.

Just when he thought the whole situation couldn’t get any shittier.

“If we die,” he muttered under his breath as someone roughly seized his wrists and pinned his arms against his back, “At least you’ll know that this wasn’t a dream, Titus.”

The blond ignored him, too preoccupied with shoving off those who attempted to grab his arms to fire back a response, a string of what he guessed were German profanities falling past his lips.

_ Alright, brain, you obstinate fucker, _ Embers thought as their group was led deeper into the tunnel they’d fallen into minutes prior. _ You never do what I tell you to do, but try thinking of a way out of this mess before you and I get fried! _

“This is bullshit!” one of the girls screamed, struggling against the two men detaining her.

And that’s when it hit him.

_ Of course … If you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, _ he turned on his heel and flashed a smirk at the stranger. “We can’t prove our divinity with our hands bound, now can we?”

_ Baffle them with bullshit. _

**vii. GARRETT**

Things were looking bad enough as it was, and now they were expected to show proof of their godhood?

At this point, Garrett was seriously considering the volcano.

He had no idea how he’d even gotten there in the first place, much less how he was supposed to get out, but things could’ve been worse, he guessed.

… Right?

After the lad a few steps ahead of him made his confident declaration, the opposing group’s leader paused, considering his words.

But in the off chance that she did agree, what would they even show her?

They were as good as dead.

The woman gave a small nod of her head and all of a sudden, their group was being unhanded in unison.

Seeing her use her abilities from afar was intimidating in itself, but witnessing her absolute authority up close reached all new heights of unsettling.

“Go on,” she said, but her monotone voice and wry expression were enough to tell him that she wasn’t expecting anything.

_ I mean, she isn’t wrong … _ Garrett hesitantly exchanged glances with the others to see if anyone would move first.

Someone did.

“You humans truly are ungrateful creatures,” a boy next to him said. From what Garrett had observed, he was one of the tallest if not _ the _ tallest member of their group. “Did you honestly believe that summoning us here would pose no threat to us deities? How utterly foolish.”

The stranger’s stare hardened.

“Did you think that we’d come to the mortal plane in all our divine glory and risk shattering the limitations of this realm? Had you not thoroughly weighed all the dangers yourself before summoning us here?”

“Elder, they’re clearly fabricating stories—”

“Quiet,” she ordered, not once breaking eye contact with the one who’d spoken. “You. What are you called?”

“In the language of men, Conner, though I rarely go by this name.”

It dawned on him then.

Were they … were they really going to bullshit their way through this?

“Indeed, and I am called Caspar,” said another a few ways in front of him.

Guess they were.

“I wish to know more, Caspar,” the woman stated, obviously doubting what Conner had just told her. “Would you care to explain?”

“Certainly.”

And that’s when he saw it—underneath all the fear and doubt, he caught a glimpse of what lay below the layer of faux confidence.

Complete and utter desperation.

**viii. KEIBAB**

Ah, yes. Her seniors were digging a hole for themselves, and there was nothing she could do about it.

What a cruel world it was, really. She was going to die because of someone else’s stupidity.

Keibab shot a glare at Titus’s back.

How tragic.

Now all she could do was stay quiet and hope that they managed to convince the weird underground cult not to kill them.

“To begin, we gods are unable to roam the earth in our divine forms,” Caspar started, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing.

_ Laugh and we die, _ she told herself, pursing her lips together. _ No matter how dumb the story, don’t you dare laugh, Keisha or I swear to God— _

“This is why we need to inhibit mortal vessels to walk on mortal soil.”

_ “Mortal soil,” _ she repeated in her head, nodding along. _ Sounds legit. _

“However, the bodies themselves are flesh and blood. While we may be able to channel the barest glimmer of our total power when we feel compelled enough, we choose not to in fear that it’ll end up destroying the vessel and all those around it.”

Keibab had zoned out at this point, fighting back the urge to yawn.

Really, if they were going to get thrown into an active volcano, they might as well do it sooner rather than later.

“Just like what had happened to one of our members who’d attempted to break her fall, but her own powers backfired and injured her frail mortal body.”

In Ahri’s defense, she didn’t look _ that _ weak. Keibab turned to where aforementioned senior was being carried bridal style in the arms of one of those strange cult members, still unconscious.

She genuinely hoped that Ahri didn’t succumb to that bothersome cliché where she loses all her memories or whatever. It wasn’t going to be fun having to explain how they’d all gotten anime isekai’ed into another world—

“But we _ are _ your gods and demand to be treated as such. We went through all the trouble of descending from the celestial plane just to heed your call, and we will not tolerate you treating us as equals for we still see you as the lessers you all are.”

_ Mm-hmm, you tell them. “We still see you as the lessers you all are”— _

Wait.

Did he just say “lessers”?

“Lessers” as in “subordinates”?

“Subordinates” as in “those below us”?

Really?

Big words coming from someone who could get sentenced to death via molten hot magma the second that weird cat lady decides to Thanos snap her fingers.

_ You went too hard on the bullshit, my dude. _

A moment of tense silence hung in the air, one that was uncomfortable enough to have her recoiling in her pajamas.

But then the events that followed unfolded so quickly that she didn’t even have a spare second to comprehend what was going on.

The elder leaned over. At first, she just assumed that she was hunching her back in that painful way all old people do when they get … you know, old.

But then everyone else fell to their knees.

They were … kneeling to them? Bowing?

“Welcome to Ashbridge, Gods of Old. You’ll have to pardon our rudeness, for it’s been millennia since our people last had the opportunity to gaze upon the gods’ brilliance.”

…

…

Huh?


	3. To Flex or Not to Flex?

**ACT 1** **: CHAPTER 3**

To Flex or Not to Flex?

* * *

**ix. **KYLE****

A few minutes of tense and uncomfortable silence later, all seventeen of them were led deeper and deeper into the tunnel they’d been crudely and roughly summoned into. Its ceiling was rounded in a wide arch, and the cement ground was getting smoother and more even the longer they walked. Numerous compact light sources similar to the fluorescent lamps that existed back on Earth lit up the otherwise cold and dark tunnel. Despite being relatively small and thin, they managed to light up the walls from ground to ceiling, evenly spaced between every few paces.

_ Must be more magic, _ Kyle guessed, eyes darting around his surroundings. _ I wonder if the whole place is powered by it. _

In the midst of his musings, the pessimistic part of his brain told him that they were being fooled. That “elder” or whatever must not have wanted them resisting and chose instead to pretend to believe their ridiculous story so that it would be easier to lead them to their doom.

He’d long since realized that the whole thing wasn’t a figment of his wild imagination. Whatever happened from then on would be just as real as his overwhelming need to use the toilet.

“Do you think they’ll have bathrooms wherever they plan on taking us?” he whispered to the one walking alongside him. The girl turned her head upon hearing his voice but didn’t answer. At first, he’d just assumed that she hadn’t heard his question but then he noticed how hard her hands were shaking.

… Guess it was even weirder that he _ wasn’t _ scared shitless in a situation like this.

“Eh, probably? All _ I’m _ hoping is that they have good food.” Kyle turned to her in surprise. “My name’s Luka.”

He racked his brain for any recollection of the name.

“Ah, but the chat calls me Zuppa. Or, Ahri did. She came up with it—”

“OH, FROM THE CRACKHEAD CHAT!”

The entire group stopped.

“Is something wrong, dei?” the creepy old woman from earlier asked, raising an intuitive brow.

“No, no. Just … remembered something is all. Carry on, my good, err … people.”

They all awkwardly returned to their unanimous trudging.

“So what you’re saying is,”—he leaned closer to Zuppa, startling her for a moment—“everyone that got poofed to this place is from that chat we have on Instagram?”

“ … Yes … Did you just realize that now?” she replied, giving him a look that made him want to crawl in a hole and die.

He cursed himself for not being more active and just deciding to lurk. How the fuck was he supposed to know that he’d end up spending who-knows-how-long with a bunch of strangers who were probably already tight with each other?

Hopefully, he wasn’t the only one who’d been sort of inactive.

“I’m, uh … I’m Kyle, if you don’t know.”

Zuppa grimaced. At first, he thought maybe it was because he was being too pushy.

But c’mon, if he was going to be stuck with these people, introductions were better late than never.

“OH!” Her face lit up in recognition. “Bagels, right?”

“ … Yeah, yeah, that’s me.”

So she was just trying to remember who he was.

_ Thank God. _

Kyle _ really _ had to stop overthinking everything.

**x. **LIPPE****

When the group stopped at the end of the tunnel, it was in front of a wall. The sense of finality that came with it sent Lippe’s brain into overdrive.

All the strangers except the old lady had guns. Were they going to shoot them all dead right where they stood, in a place where nobody would be able to find the decaying bodies of seventeen missing teenagers?

_ Oh God, I’m too young to die. _

The elder moved forward, causing her to flinch at the sudden action. Aforementioned woman then scanned the wall for a moment before knocking thrice against the hard cement.

All of a sudden, a disembodied whisper echoed against the arched walls of the tunnel, rasping out a statement that she could swear had her heart jumping all the way up to her throat.

“Speak, for the gods are listening.”

Confused, Lippe watched the stranger.

Without missing a beat, she responded, “The gods do not answer.”

A brief pause.

Then, the wall shifted. Its surface started to churn and heave, movements becoming similar to that of the ripples seen in water when a stone disturbs its calmness.

Turning to face them, the elder beckoned with an outstretched hand. “Come, my dei. Your people are waiting.”

As Lippe neared the distorted wall, she found herself becoming more anxious, her heart pounding so hard against her chest that she was sure the person next to her could _ hear _ just how nervous she felt.

Goosebumps erupted along Lippe’s arms and crept up her nape the moment she passed through what she guessed was an entrance that doubled as a barrier. However, what fascinated her the most was how its surface didn’t feel solid and not quite liquid or gas either. It seemed to possess a quality akin to the surface tension of water but was also intangible enough to be considered air.

Once the last person entered, the ripples stilled into motionless cement again, and she almost failed to notice all the people who’d gathered around at the entrance to catch a glimpse of their “gods.” Truth be told, all the gazes she felt on her made her feel somewhat self-conscious and small.

“I sent word of the gods’ arrival on the way back, so please take your time readying yourselves while your humble servants begin preparations for Nomentūm.”

“Nomentūm? What is that?” Lippe found herself asking, surprising herself with her own boldness but all she got in reply was a cryptic smile.

“Please escort the gods to their ceremonial dressing chamber.”

**xi. **LUNA****

They all entered the large, extravagantly decorated room one by one. As the last member came in through the gold and navy curtains that draped down at the entrance in heavy but nonetheless soft fabric, no one said a word, half because their minds were still reeling after the overwhelming chain of events had unfolded and half because some of them had gone on for so long without actual human contact that they’d forgotten how to start a normal conversation.

Luna glanced around her and tried to embed all the faces to memory. She’d had a hunch from the beginning that they were all participants of that Crackhead Central group chat; Caspar and Conner merely confirmed her suspicions upon introducing themselves earlier. However, she couldn’t say that she’d been active enough to be able to properly match names with faces, and not knowing was making her feel unnecessarily agitated.

“ … So … ” one of the boys in their group started. From what she could recall, he was the one who’d spoken out against the other party’s leader. Rian, was it? “I think the best thing to do for now is to introduce ourselves. We are a pretty large group but considering our circumstance, we’re probably going to be together for a while. We might as well as figure out each other’s names, yeah?”

They did as they were told but considering the fact that there were sixteen of them, she didn’t think anyone was able to follow after the fifth person.

“If Arianne was here, she’d probably be able to remember everyone … ” muttered a girl leaning against a wall on the opposite end of the chamber, but everyone must’ve caught what she’d said since they all turned to stare at her.

Luna recognized her as the one who started the group chat in the first place. Zoe.

“Arianne?” she asked after the lull in conversation started becoming too awkward to keep quiet.

Zoe paused before clarifying, “Ahri’s real name is Arianne. Sorry, I forgot most of us go by nicknames.”

_ Oh … that makes sense. _

“Wait, where _ is _ Ahri? She isn’t in the room.” The one who’d spoken looked like she was one of the oldest members of the group and had a pretty French accent.

_ She must be Mara. _

“One of the … ”—the girl she remembered was called Shyn trailed off for a bit before she seemed to give up—“the people said that she was being taken to their temple. I think it’s supposed to be like a hospital—”

A loud voice cut her off before she could continue.

“Wait, wait, are you saying you just _ let _ them take her away? After they threatened to have us all thrown into a volcano just a few minutes ago?”

Strained silence filled the room.

“You can’t be serious. Do you really think they’re going to heal a complete stranger after holding us at gunpoint like that?”

“By the looks of it, I don’t think they’re lying about believing that we’re gods and if they really wanted us dead, they could’ve just shot us when they had the chance,” Caspar interjected, attempting to diffuse the tension. Unfortunately, his words fell on deaf ears.

“Titus, could you not? What else was she supposed to do?” One of the tallest members with striking black and red hair stepped in.

“_Not _ let them isolate one of us. What the fuck were you thinking?”

_ He isn’t wrong … but he doesn’t have to be so mean about it. _

His voice wasn’t so loud as to be considered shouting, but his tone and cold expression were enough to have Shyn trembling and on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry—”

“She doesn’t need to apologize for anything. You’re just being an ass—”

“COULD YOU BOTH JUST—” The girl Luna knew was named Eli took a deep breath before continuing, “Could you both just stop? What’s done is done. We can just check on her later, alright?”

“Yeah, if she’s even still alive by then—”

“SHUT. IT. ALL OF YOU.” Rian ran a hand over his face in visible frustration. “This argument is getting us nowhere. Might I remind you that we, as in _ all of us_, are expected to pose as gods because a certain _ someone _”—he shot a glare at Titus—“couldn’t keep his mouth shut.”

The blond shrugged. “Even if I hadn’t said anything, we would’ve ended up dead either way.”

“He’s right,” Luna agreed. “Instead of fighting, I think we should remember that since there’s not much we can do about the situation we’re in now, we have no choice but to make the most of it.”

“ … And … what do you suggest we do?”

She answered without a hint of hesitation. “Play along?”

**xii. **MARA****

The room went dead silent at the girl’s words. Mara’s jaw dropped in disbelief.

_ Play along? But isn’t that so much worse? _

She’d already opened her mouth to voice her opinion when someone else beat her to it.

“That … is a terrible idea.” The one speaking had a face that she wasn’t familiar with.

_ Uh … Oh! Garrett! Yes, that’s his name! _

“You do know that we’ll just be digging even deeper graves for ourselves if we lie any more than we already have, right?”

“Well, our only other options are to A, tell them the truth and get sentenced to a gruesome and painful death feat. volcano. B, tell them the truth and receive our own complementary bullet to the head. Or C, if the plot goes anything like all the sci-fi novels I’ve read in the past, tell them the truth and get eaten alive because I’ve already deduced that those wackos out there are actually cannibals.”

_ … Embers is scary … I wanna go home. _

“Oh, and best-case scenario? They choose to be merciful and decide to just tie us up and keep us as prisoners until we all grow old and die in a cell.”

_ I _ really _ miss my cat … _

“Then the plan is simple.” Trying to lighten the mood, Conner clasped his hands together and smiled reassuringly at all of them. “We all just pretend to be their gods until we find a way to get back home.”

“And if we get found out?”

“We won’t.”

“But if we do?” Caspar pressed.

His silence said more than enough.

The sound of sighs and murmurs of despair filled the room.

“Um … ” The whispers steadily died down when one of the other members took a tentative step forward. The girl who’d attempted to call their attention had a petite figure and sweet, innocent face. She clearly appeared to be one of the youngest.

“What is it, Keibab?” Mara asked upon recognizing her. The girl didn’t seem nervous. If anything, she looked much, _ much _ too calm for the predicament they were currently in.

She shifted a bit. “The only thing I can offer during this trying time are some dad jokes. Want some?”

…

_ What? _

“Uh … ” Embers let out an uneasy cough. “No thanks, Pop-Tart. We’re good.”

“Hi, good. I’m Dad.”

“ … ”

“ … ”

Laughter then bubbled up in spite of the hopeless atmosphere, not at the jest itself but rather, at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. Mara couldn’t help but feel lighter and less troubled as it served as a good release of some pent-up stress.

“Excuse me,” an unfamiliar voice coming from outside the chamber disrupted them. “Pardon my interruption, but I have your garments for the ceremony, great dei.”

Rian gave them all a nod and stood to retrieve the robes but right before he started toward the entrance, he turned to them and said, “Try to remember that our lives depend on how good we flex our god status from here on out.” He smirked.

“We’re all gods now, so start acting like it.”


End file.
